Respite
by Tvist
Summary: She's known about his double identity for a while now. Ever since Oliver Queen came running into her ER with Laurel Lance in his arms, her blood all over him, she's known his secret.
1. Chapter 1

She's known about his double identity for a while now.

Ever since Oliver Queen came running into her ER with Laurel Lance in his arms, her blood all over him, she's known his secret. Dr. Schwartz takes pride in treating every patient the same, respecting their privacy and confidentiality. He's no different; he deserves to be treated like everyone else.

That's probably why Oliver Queen trusted her enough to make her his primary physician when he became Mayor. She already knew his secret and she'd kept it, never letting anyone know what she knew to be true; that the Mayor of Star City is also the Green Arrow.

They've never really talked about it out loud, Oliver choosing to ignore the fact that she knows. Respecting his privacy means she only read his medical file when she was officially made his physician, not when she first found out, that would be breaking his confidentiality. When she had read it she was appalled by what was in it.

The first physical examination she performed on him he'd been wary and unsure, gauging her reaction to his scars, marring his skin, telling her a story he refused to talk about. Oliver was in good physical shape, blood pressure perfect, cholesterol levels low, but he had fresh scars, recently inflicted. They'd shared a few looks, until she finally asked who'd sutured the cut on his arm.

She should have known he had friends who took care of his wounds. When she asked about the scar by his left collarbone, he'd told her with as few words as possible, about Diggle's military training, about storing Oliver's blood for a rainy day, and field surgery in the bunker. Schwartz tried not react to his revelation, to the fact that he was damned lucky to be alive. She had a feeling he'd been through worse. The fact that Diggle had medical supplies was most likely a step up from what Oliver had experienced during the five years he'd been missing.

Medical files are filled with words made to convey objective findings that any doctor can interpret. You can fill in what's behind the words, the descriptions. The entry in Oliver Queen's file made by Dr. Lamb tells her Oliver was probably suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder when he returned from Lian Yu. He'd exhibited clear signs of hyper-vigilance, sometimes withdrawn and unresponsive, zoning out, startled by touch. During night he'd spent in the hospital he'd been plagued nightmares.

Dr. Lamb had recommended medication, Oliver had refused.

Dr. Schwartz can still see signs of Oliver's struggles, both recent and old. He's lost so many close to him, experienced so much darkness and pain, it's a miracle he's still functioning. She's pretty sure it has something to do with the two people who seem to be closest to him. Felicity Smoak and John Diggle are always somehow close by.

Felicity is the one who schedules an appointment for him because he's still headachy and dizzy from a concussion. Schwartz had forced him to rest the night his limousine had been attacked, trying to make him see that he needs to slow down.

Oliver sits down on the examination table with a sigh. He looks rumpled, his hair is messy, there's a smudge on his tie from a meal eaten by his desk.

"So, how are things?" She decides to go for an open question, hoping he will be honest.

Oliver's usually an expert in denying anything being wrong. She suspects he's not doing it to be difficult; he's just too used to being in a state of pain and discomfort.

"Felicity worries too much. It's just a headache and then I got a little dizzy for a moment. I'm fine, everything's fine." He bows his head, covering his face with his hands, pushing his palms against his eyes, as if he's trying to get rid of the headache by force.

"How much sleep are you getting?" The slump of his frame tells her more than his words. His tense shoulders tell her a tale of hyper-vigilance and adrenaline, maybe even flashbacks to things he wants to forget.

"Oh, I'm not sure, probably not enough, but I'm fine," he removes his hands to look up at her. His face pale and his eyes red, his smile is sad and not like the one he uses to try and charm his way out of her office.

"Probably not, and that might be the only problem, but let me have a look at you first, before I tell you to go home and sleep." She smiles at his sour expression, as he removes his jacket and loosens his tie.

She leads him though a quick neurological examination, before checking his blood pressure. When she turns down the light in the room to check his pupils reaction to light she can tell he feels sick.

"Ow, uh…don't." He pushes her hand away shutting his eyes tight against the light.

"You're still concussed Oliver, that's' why you feel dizzy and your head is bothering you." Schwartz tries not to sound like she's reprimanding him. He doesn't need that from her. She gets the light out of his face and puts a hand on his shoulder to steady him as he sways a bit.

"Yeah, probably…"

"Let Felicity take you home, get some sleep. I could prescribe you something to help you relax if you need it."

Oliver shakes his head no as an answer, buttons his shirt back up, puts the tie in the pocket of his jacket.

"I'll get some sleep, promise." He looks at her with pain-lines on his face as she turns the lights in the room back on.

Felicity stands to greet Oliver the second the office door opens. She looks at Oliver for a few moments, before turning her eyes on schwartz.

"Get him home, let him sleep, he'll be okay."

Oliver smiles at Felicity. His arm circles around her shoulder, drawing her against him in a sideways hug.

Schwartz can't hear what Oliver tells her as they leave, but she hopes Felicity makes him rest and recover.


	2. Chapter 2

Felicity knows she's not his girlfriend or lover anymore. She walked out on him. It's something she's regretted more than once but it's difficult to love Oliver. He's a complicated man with so many façades and hidden compartments. There was mistrust and maybe jealousy that made her take a step back, but she also knew she lost some of his trust when she walked out that door.

They've worked well together even if they don't share that closeness anymore. Felicity's craved him like a bad habit that's difficult to quit. Leaving him alone in the bunker as she leaves for the night, hoping Diggle will offer Oliver some companionship to maybe make Oliver feel human again.

So when Oliver looks pale and clammy, his tie loosened, as he enters the bunker she's not sure if she's allowed to touch him as she does. If touching his forehead to feel for a fever, is overstepping the boundary between them.

Oliver leans into her hand, eyes closing. He's slumped in one of the chairs by the conference table, looking completely drained, Felicity is worried. He's been working too hard lately, Mayor during the day and vigilante by night. Thinking back he's taken a few hits lately, the limo flipping over and the concussion comes to mind.

"You look tired Oliver, what's wrong?" She lets her hand linger before pushing her fingers into his hair, combing it back in a comforting motion.

"Nothing, just a headache." His startlingly blue eyes look up at her, searching hers, as her hand leaves him.

She nod at him, turns to walk back to her work station, needing distance because his presence reminds her of when he was hers.

Diggle calls Oliver's name over the comm's later that night with fear in his voice. Oliver's answer is a meek and shaky, "I'm okay." But she's knows something went wrong or almost did, by Diggle's hand on his back as they enter the bunker.

"What happened?" She demands an answer, but Oliver looks at the floor, as does John.

Oliver moves to put his gear away, John and Felicity studying his every move, exchanging glances when he seems unsteady on his feet. They let him have his privacy to get showered and changed.

"What happened out there?"

"I don't know, he just seems off, he almost fell of a roof, if I hadn't been there he'd tumbled over the ledge." John looks over at where Oliver disappeared a few moments ago.

"I'll talk to him, something's wrong…he had a headache, if he's dizzy as well, I'm making an appointment with Dr. Schwartz."

When Thea tells her Oliver's thrown up in one of the trashcans in the office the next day, she makes the appointment without asking him.

Making him actually go to the appointment is a challenge as he thinks she's overreacting. But when she looks him straight in the eyes telling him she won't work with him until he's seen a doctor he relents.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!

Oliver is quiet in the car, and he doesn't notice she's taken him to the loft until they park. They sit in silence for a while, Felicity watching him while he rubs his eyes and yawns.

"You need sleep, come on," Felicity tries to get him to move, and to her surprise he follows without protest.

His defenses are down, so he's pliable and docile as she leads him to what was once their bed. Sitting down he seems to have lost all his energy, it's as if he's used up all his reserves on walking in from the car to the apartment.

It's a testament to how much his head hurts that he accepts the pills she puts in his hand without comment or protests.

Felicity helps him out of his jacket and shirt, and the familiar feeling of the situation leaves an ache in her chest. When his down to his boxers and t-shirt she makes him lie down, and covers him up under the blankets.

"Stay…please?" Oliver says as she makes to leave him alone to sleep.

Oliver's been careful not to get too close after the wine induced bunker sex several months ago. He's dated Susan, tried to get some sort of normalcy in his life, but still Oliver and Felicity seem to gravitate towards each other.

She knows him too well, their time together teaching her how his mind works, and the details behind almost every scar on his body.

They share a history and secrets she'll never tell anyone. Secrets he's given her in an effort to keep his sanity. She'll never betray him, even if she hates how he still doesn't trust her completely. How there's still a place inside him no one can reach, not even her, and it hurts.

Felicity can't resist his plea, because that's what it sounds like to her. He's asking for her to quiet his mind, to help him settle down, to keep the demons at bay. Oliver isn't good at slowing down for a reason.

Oliver turns over on his side, while she settles behind him, her hand sliding over his side, settling on his chest. He's warm and solid against her, his chest expanding with each breath; she can feel his heartbeat slowing down under her hand.

"Thank you," his whisper is barely audible, but she can still hear the words, and feel the way his body starts to relax in sleep.

Felicity knows he's not hers anymore, and that fact brings tears to her eyes. Oliver is never going to understand what he did wrong, what he did to lose her; she's beginning to understand that now.

She grows tired listening to his breathing evening out. Closing her eyes she lets herself pretend that this is still their shared bed, that he's still hers.


End file.
